Past Story: Randall's Trainer Day's
by RandallFanOne
Summary: Randall has finally become Top Scarer of Monsters Inc. and is holding the title, but when Waternoose makes him train his long time rival, things change for the worse.
1. Default Chapter

Hey everyone! Sean here! Me and Ran have been discussing about his life and how we can post something without ruining the surprise. So we decided that talking about something closer to….the event….wouldn't spoil anything you might already know. So, we'd like to introduce you to the final segment (not final story, there's still two pieces, see Bio) of Randall's life story.

This takes place when Randall's Top Scarer, Sullivan's Trainer, and when his Top Scarer title was stolen away from him. This is probably one of the most important parts of Randall's life, as it's nearly a year before the movie. Although we're both a little shaky on the years, so bear with us….(Oh! (NS) still means "Next Scene")

Oh! Unlike Randall's other past stories, this one will feature the other monster's thoughts. Yes, this story focuses on Randall, but for brief parts, you'll see it. Although, remember this is proposed, hey…Randall's no mind reader . Though I am writing it, it is from Randall, like Hockey Days .

Enjoy the time of Randall's good life….and…when it falls….

Randall's Note: You may have all noticed I've focused on my life story. I'm sure your all more interested in what happened to me than….what had happened to me afterward. So, I…..We….decided to post this. I want to assure you my memory is fuzzy at parts, of course yours would be two if you had a slit in your head. Anyway. Somewhat, enjoy, and you'll all see what happened to me….some of which….nobody else had…..enjoy. Cool, Pitbulllady, Light Rises….I hope you enjoy my…."close" past.

**Randall's Trainer Days **

**Chapter 1 Randall The Top Scarer**

Two years?

Is that all it's been. He thought it was longer than that. Or maybe shorter in terms of forgetting. No. He didn't want to forget. Even if he wanted to…..he couldn't. He had to go alone now, and doing well so far. But he didn't like it.

Being alone. Alone. It seemed to follow him to everywhere he went. He had it before, but now it seemed to be a sort of welcome.

At least that's what Randall thought.

(NS)

The monster looked out through the glass window of the Quick Stop Café. He held a small cup off coffee in his top hands, his bottom set placed together. Nothing seemed to break what he concentrated on.

His hands were firm, each one seeming to have not moved for hours. His tail stayed on the ground, wondering why it's owner hadn't moved. His scales only reflected little of the sun, as an overhead neon sign was just outside. His emerald eyes weren't seeming to be set on anything in particular. Just, looking out at everything.

One could say he looked like a prisoner. Looking out of his cell window and watching as people with free and happy lives to live. Watching as the world passed by him as if he was forgotten. So far, Randall didn't really care. But so far….

He broke his concentration, setting his left hand down on the table and his right one holding onto the cup handle and bringing it's base to meet the table. His eyes looked over the scene, reminding him where he was in his absence at that time.

Right. A diner. Na. Café. Several tan-yellow cushioned seats, white tables. The walls were blue and the floor was checkerboard black and white. There were those circular top chairs that you would find in bars, though this place was nowhere near like a bar. Then again, it wasn't really a family place, which is one of the reasons Randall came here for breakfast.

He saw a couple who knew him, reputation only of course, who gave a slight wave. The reply was only a slight open of the mouth, nearly a smile from Randall. They turned around, the male's shoulder's slightly shaking, and Randall knew he was probably smiling, or laughing, but Randall didn't care.

He looked down at the coffee cup in front of him, starring down into the swirling pool of brown, hot steamy goodness. But his senses didn't care, they just alerted him that was something to consume in front of him.

Randall usually went straight to the company when he was first starting. He stayed late too and just got what he needed from the company itself. But nowadays, he didn't have to rush so much.

Randall took a slight sip from the cup, it was getting colder now, setting it's end in contact with his other hand. His attention turned back outside, thinking of everything that had happened. In the time he had spent in the company, he had finally made it. Early in his career in fact that he had made such progress.

Randall half smiled to himself. Top Scarer. Boy. Was THAT an honor. It was probably the best….no….one…..one of the best times of his life. Being the best in front of everyone….showing he truly made something of himself.

Oh. He remembered. Those news crews wouldn't get off his tail, sometimes literally. The media was always looking into stories like that, but Randall didn't care. It was just something that would blow by. Of course, they still bugged him every now and then, but Randall knew when and when not to talk about something.

More media time meant he could show all those that said he wouldn't be something how big of a success he was. The Top Scarer of the world's main scream collection industry….what could be better?

Top Scarer. It was more than just a job position. It was kind of a label. To Randall, it was a name that meant something to him. Top. Being the best and the greatest of all those around them. Scarer. The most wanted and admired job that every little monster wanted to be. Put them together, and you were important. Guess that's what it was. It always reminded Randall that he was something important. Someone that everyone notices somehow or another. Still…..that was only work.

Randall's smile fell, watching as monsters went by of all shapes and sizes. Sure, they lived simple lives. They woke up, clocked into work, did what they were trained to do, get a paycheck, and go home to resume their real lives.

The first parts were easy for Randall. It's the "real life" part that got to him. When he is in the company, when he is a scarer….he felt like his outside life didn't really much matter anymore. Sure. It was still there, but his focus was being, just that. A scarer. A scarer with a job to do.

But then again, "real life".

Randall shook his head, looking forward at the empty seat in front of him. He didn't have time to think, he had to get to work.

Taking down the coffee in one gulp, he clanged the cup on the tables, dropping the cost down on the table as he got out.

(NS)

Randall stood in front of the company's finely golden rimmed, not really gold actually, door. It was always the same. He looked to his left at the plaque that was actually quite hard to miss, having to take up nearly the entire part of the wall.

"We Scare Because We Care".

Randall rolled his eyes. What did that even mean? Sure, they scare for energy, and in turn they care for the community by providing that energy. But still, it's not like they care, they still charge ya for it.

He pushed the door open, heading into the lobby. He was greeted by a few employees as he came in. Just fellow Scarers, some that don't even work on his floor, some not even on it's floor.

His main attention, giving him a smirk, was the receptionist desk just ahead.

(NS)

"Yeah….yes…hold on…umm…..yeah uh…err…".

Celia Mae.

Randall knew he quiet well, not personally of course, but they do at least make contact sometimes. Celia was only issued in only a few weeks ago. If Randall remembered right, it was probably a few short months after he became famous.

Of course, Celia wasn't really well for the job. She was good with other people, which a receptionist's prime attribute would be. Still, there was probably one real reason she wanted to get into the company.

Randall knew first hand that Celia and a certain round, obtuse, green zit had a bit of a girl-boy friend relationship. That, to him, was the main reason she wanted to work at Monsters Inc. Of course, there was something Randall always reminded himself.

If it wasn't for him, Celia probably wouldn't have gotten the job.

Yeah, he remembered. He always had at least a little influence when it came to new employees. He just tipped the employer's views in Celia's favor, so she would get the job. Randall didn't know exactly why he did it. He always thought it might be considered a moral or peace. Plus…..she would get that green urchin off his back one way or another….

(NS)

Celia finally placed the last of the "urgent" calls down, placing the phone on the receiver and sighing with relief and holding her head with a hand, tentacle. It was a gift when calls didn't come in, almost like a miracle. Of course, Celia always knew there were reasons.

"How's the job?".

Celia looked up, seeing Randall in front of the desk, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Celia really didn't think that much of Randall, as in she didn't really have a set opinion on him. Mike always told her of Randall being a jerk, snot, stuck up, racing idiotic….and by then she told him to stop. Then again, he wasn't that bad. Although he was Top Scarer, Celia didn't really think much of the title, Randall was Randall, and a title didn't change that. At least…that's what she thought.

"Uhh….I've been answering phones all day…." She replied, shaking her head. Randall smirked. "You were made for this job" he snickered. She shook her head, looking over the phones that had bombarded her but had settled down in a current truce.

Randall hopped up to the desk, crossing his bottom set on it's top. "Honestly….the one receptionist that gets to take the Lobby…..you don't know how lucky you are….how VERY….lucky you are….". He chuckled, getting one from Celia as well.

Seriously, Celia didn't dislike Randall. He wasn't knew to the company, he knew it probably better than anyone here, besides Waternoose of course. He could be a bit of an annoyance at times….but he is really energetic. Probably the young scarer out of the company. Maybe that's why he was always full of this energy and that he still had allot to learn. To her, he was just another employee, though one she knew from experience…but not from Mike.

She turned around, looking back at him. "Yeah…well….if I'm so lucky…." She started, bending over and looking for something under the desk. "Celia COME ON…you think a receptionist job is hard?" Randall exaggerated. Celia came back up, placing a box half the size of a shopping cart on the desk.

"Ah heh heh…" Randall mumbled, half smiling. "All these are memos I had to copy down by hand….and this is just a day and this morning….." she said, sounding exhausted, emphasizing with wiping her forehead, her head snakes taking a few huffing breaths.

Randall stood there for a moment. Comebacks were something he needed at the moment, but hadn't prepared.

"Uhh heh…well…these…these are small.." he said, picking a sheet at random with his top hands. "See there…" he started, half turning to realize that it was a fax paper. His bottom hands caught it before it jumped out of the box. Celia laughed at seeing Randall look like a pretzel. He growled, pushing the paper back into the box.

"See?" she said, smiling. Randall rolled his eyes, looking around to see nobody had noticed the event. "So?". He looked back to Celia. "So….what?". It was Celia's turn to roll her eyes. "I know you didn't come here just to talk to me…..".

Randall grinned, pushing the box aside a bit to replace his hands on the desk. "What? Can't the Top Scarer come and have an engaging conversation?" he asked. Celia eyed him. Randall was slightly appalled when anyone assumed something.

"Yeah…..you just think what you want Celia…" he said, heading over to the hall leading to the Scarefloors. She folded her arms, watching him as he stopped before he went inside. "Oh…" he started, looking over at her. He grinned, point to one of the phones from far off. "By the way your on hold….".

"WHAT!". Celia reached for the phone he had pointed toward, fiddling it with a few seconds before finally getting it, all the while Randall chuckling as he went into the hallway.

Celia watched him as he went off, shaking her head, but with a smile, he snakes looking at each other and nodding

(NS)

Randall started into his floor, taking a peek in the Dispatch Office as he did, noticing Roz giving out some folders to Charles Snitch, no comments. He turned back into the floor, getting a few talk flares from a few of the other Scarers and some of their assistants. It was commonplace for him.

"Yeah yeah…woah!". He took a few steps back, the wranglers coming up with the door shredder. Randall rolled his eyes, accompanied by an angry sigh, as Needleman and Smitty came in front of him.

"What is it?" Randall asked, annoyed. "Mr…Mr. Boggs c…can we get your autograph?" Smitty asked, gittered. Randall heaved. "Ugh…you ask me every single day and you always don't….". Needleman fingered around the shredder, pulling out a piece of paper from the drop out. He placed it in Randall's bottom right hand, which he looked over. It was just a ripped cover off of Scarer Weekly Magazine. It was specifically for Scarers and the companies. Randall was on the cover.

"Ok ok ok fine….if it'll get you outta my scales…pen?" he asked. Needleman looked over at Smitty, who gave the same. Randall's eyes shifted between the two, getting it exactly. "Uhh…Smitty'll get one Mr. Boggs" Needleman said, pushing Smitty past Randall. "Oh no….Needleman'll get it…" Smitty replied, switching around and pushing Needleman.

Randall placed the cover under his arm, holding his top right in a knuckle to his side, watching as Smitty and Needleman took turns pushing each other out the floor. He chuckled when they were out of earshot. He turned around and started for his station, remembering the cover and taking a look at it.

Ever since he took on Top Scarer, magazines, advertising, and various other professions had wanted his face on something. Most paid him. The feeling that it was happening most days almost made it like an increase in pay.

He didn't want to recall back, he had something he had to take care off. Looking back up, he saw Fungus over at his desk, looking over the folders for the kids of the day. "Hey Fungus…" he said, doing a gunshot point, which Fungus merely shrugged off, but he kept a smile.

"So…what's up for me today…" Randall asked, placing the cover to the side, standing beside Fungus to look over the folders. "Some kids from Russia…" he said, a bit of a sigh. Randall looked his assistant over.

Randall knew Fungus for a couple years. They had been…..somewhat….of a degree of friends. Of course, ever since their fight in High School, Randall had lost contact with him. When Fungus became his assistant, Randall was shocked to reunite with him. But he wasn't sure Fungus felt the same way. Still….Randall always wanted to believe Fungus was at least a friend.

Fungus on the other hand….

"Oh come on…what's wrong with you?" Randall asked, turning around and hopping to "sit" on the desk. He placed his hands on the desk to keep himself stable as he leaned back slightly. Fungus took off his glasses for a second, rubbing his eyes and looking back at Randall.

"Ohh….I've…just been chased by a few cameras….". "Ohh…" Randall replied, nodding his head. Just like before…they both had to deal with the constant hammering of the city's media. While Randall would get asked the usual questions ANY successful reptile, as low as the rate is, considering Randall was probably the only one, would take. Fungus would get much of the same, asking things like how it was to work with a reptilian Scarer or are there any secrets to success he's told him, things like that. Randall was just annoyed by it most of the time, slightly angered. Fungus….probably the same….but not exactly toward the media….

"Oh…sorry Fungus….you know how they are….heh…vultures…." Randall said, looking down at his seemingly exhausted assistant. Fungus re-adjusted his glasses, sighing and starring at the folders, nodding with a hand to his head.

Randall noticed that Fungus seemed slightly uncomfortable for some reason. His fronds slightly went down, thinking a few thoughts of Fungus having similar troubles he did, though not to a grand extent.

"Umm…." Randall started, biting his lip. He hopped off the table, landing beside Fungus. Turning around, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Uh listen…how about I get you something from one of the vending machines…I have something I need to do near there anyway….ok?" Randall offered. Fungus nodded, still holding his head, left hand to his side.

Randall smiled, at least something he could do. "Ok…see you when we're near starting up…" he said, turning and heading out. Fungus watched as he did, shaking his head and heaving out a gittered sigh.

**Well there's the first part for all of you. You get a little thought work from Randall, as well as Celia and Fungus. Next chapter will be for Sullivan, and maybe how Randall acts when he's home…..**

**Enjoy, and tell me and Ran what you think. Oh…and don't comment on the years, we're still shaky on those.**


	2. Neutral Ground Comeith

Alright. Finally got another chapter ready. I might be updating at a slow pace, but it's mainly because I'm gearing up toward summer. Luckily Randall and me got a few chapters done so we can post. After all, since we were the first about Randall training Sully, we got an early start.

With a little bit of an objection on Randall's part, I decided to include Sullivan's thoughts. Though merely speculation, I think we both got it down right. Enjoy.

Chapter 2 Neutral Ground Comeith

(Plop)

Randall had also gained something that he had always wanted, being above those who had tormented him in the past. That was one of the many things that entertained him from time to time.

(Plop)

Although it was only one employee, at this time, the position alone compared to his was pretty pathetic.

(Plop)

Half of Randall thought of a business as having several levels of employees. First, the big shot who created the whole industry. Next, the CEO's like Waternoose. Top employee, meaning him, then the other scarers next. Then workers like Jerry and Roz. Then the wranglers like Smitty and Needleman. Then Finally...

(Plop)

...The janitors.

(NS)

Randall turned into one of the halls that was practically deserted. Less one forget, it was the fax and printing offices. Hardly anyone was in long, even so, always in a rush. Still, Randall could hear the plopping of the mop and bucket several feet away, which made him all the more keen on who it was. He stopped at a corner, peeking over it and grinning.

James P. Sullivan. Randall knew him all too well. For about **3 **years now Sullivan had been working here, Randall **2**. For as long as Sully had been in the company, Randall knew it more than him, as his access was higher. Still, Randall was glad to the fact he was "higher on the chain of command" than Sullivan was. Although he liked the thought of shoving it in, Randall felt he hadn't need to. He had proved to Sullivan he was, indeed, better than he was, which was more than enough to please him.

Turning into the hall, he felt a slight dampness on his foot. As much as he would enjoy having Sullivan mess up, he didn't want to leave a trail back to the floor, so he just took to the wall. He simply came behind Sully, tapping his right shoulder. Sully stopped what he was doing, looking to his right, then to his left. For the years they had been in the company, Sully was use to Randall's jokes.

The lights ahead were off, mainly because the rooms were mainly for the night shift. The few on were a little dim. Randall's scales didn't reflect much light, so he wasn't seen very good. Still, the atmosphere seemed calm.

"I thought you'd be at the scare floors by now Sullivan" Randall said, slyly. Randall was quick to catch on to Sully's peeking in on the floor, his floor, a few times every now and then, staying till the shift was over.

Sully simply shrugged. "I thought about heading there" he said, voice casual. Randall had always thought low of Sully, thinking nothing had changed since they met. They hardly ever talked at all. When they did, Randall either commented on something, or just wanted to see what his long-time "rival" was up to.

Randall smirked, taking his right hand off the wall, pointing at Sully. "You've been cleaning around the floor for so long heh...I can practically see myself in it...good work..." Randall commented, stretching the last words. It was supposedly that Randall wanted to see if Sullivan was actually doing a good job at something.

Simply put, the two were acquaintances. It was probably Randall's intention to act as if he would have tried to cheer Sully up, though they both knew it was just fake.

"What do you want Randall...' Sully asked, vaguely. Randall smirked, pointing at the case ahead of him on the wall. It was a few documents of recognized interests for the company, though nobody really cared about them. "You missed a spot" Randall commented. Sully was going to reply to it, but noticed Randal was right, a few slight smudges on the bottom of the case.

"I was never a janitor but I know mistakes when I see them..." Randall added. He looked down at the floor, seeing the waterlogged tiles were drying up now. "Personally, I never want to be one..." Randall added again as he got off the wall, back onto the floor again. Sully ignored it. "Don't you have work to do?" Sully asked, more of a reminding tone.

Randall folded his arms, chuckling. "Heh...I work as much as I can...unlike some...even yet I haven't been late...". He scuffed. "Like anyone's gonna beat me...even if someone does...they'd have to cheat" he said the last one as if toward Sully, who knew that he did.

"Randall...if your gonna talk about years ago...just come out and say it..." Sully said, annoyed. Randall just smirked at the comment. "I didn't say anything..." . Again, slyly. Sully just sighed, closing his eyes, then looked back up at Randall, who made his smirk disappear.

"Honestly Sullivan, I can get a clue..." he commented, bringing up the first topic. He turned, starting to head back.

"Its best you got the job you did...with inexperience...you couldn't last a day on the floor...".

(NS)

Sully watched as Randall's tail disappeared behind the wall. He was gone now.

With a deep sigh, he overlooked the case, making sure he didn't miss anything. The job wasn't that bad at times. Allot of people he knew worked here, mainly because everyone did want to work here. He had time to see them when he was in the halls. And he had gotten use to the job as well. Not much pay, but enough to get by. Still...there was something else he wanted to be.

Picking himself up, feeling satisfied that the case was cleaned, he grabbed his mop and bucket and headed for the floor.

He was lucky to catch some of Jaluby's trail as he came into the floor area right before the Dispatch Office. He started. Taking looks at the activity inside when he had the chance.

Scarers. The heart of the company. The monsters that everyone admired, the one's everyone wanted to be. Sully knew how many wanted to be scarers, never making the cut. He tried once, but the positions were full, so he had to become a janitor to work in the company. He never really went to Floor F until someone h heard about was recognized. He looked at station 10. Although Sully was surprised he had gotten the job, he wasn't surprised that he'd gotten to the top so quick. The only one on top, of course, was Randall.

If there was anyone he was interested in watching, it would have to be the company's Top Scarer. To him, Randall seemed determined to get the job, as well as rise to the top. He was as efficient as he was fast. Sully remembered hearing a few saying he could beat the record, be as well know as Fangs McDonald.

Although Sully knew Randall would brag, he didn't. Even as Randall enjoyed his job, there always seemed to be something else he was working toward, though Sully didn't know what it was. Right now, he didn't really much care about peeking into Randall's personal life.

Still, when a position would open up on the floor, he would be there to try and get it. Although it wasn't on his list, he had a little nack telling him to make peace with Randall, as the lizard monster still held a grudge.

Still, he also had Mike to worry about.

"Oh Jeez..." he said. He almost forgot that his friend was going to be waiting for him after the day's shift. Forgetting his thoughts, he went back to work.

The years above might still be judgemental, we're trying to pin-point it. Anyway, please review, we're a little low here heh. Hoping to update again, next chapter features, I think, a side of Randall he always hid.


	3. Working Questions

Ah. With Randall sitting on his tail and watching t.v., I had to work. Lazy.

Anyway. This part is sorta setting up the current mood, as well as some plot setting. Once again, Sullivan's thoughts are shown. You can imagine that Randall had no want in doing them, so I had to handle it heh . Well enjoy.

Chapter 3 Working Questions

Randall calmly exited his latest door when the lunch bell rang. He grinned as he did, pressing the return switch on the door. Things were going well, so he accepted the creak, he earned it.

He went over to his station, looking for where he'd placed his lunch. "Oh! Here Randall...". He turned left, spotting Fungus with two pails in his hands. Randall grabbed his, rolling an eye as he did, starting out with his assistant. "Just take a break, second shift, maybe working a bit late..." Randall mumbled to himself. It was always a good idea to remind himself where he was going and what he was going to do. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it was chaotic.

He could hardly think with Fungus talking about how when they would break the record, calculating up Randall's average and all. Randall reminded himself that Fungus half-liked being on the winning team, something Randall enjoyed as well. Still, he didn't mind much at all. Excluding fans, the only friend Randall had at the time, or rather what would come close to one, was Fungus. Known him since they were kids, or at least middle school. They lost touch for awhile, that is until they decided that Fungus would be his assistant. Randall wasn't much overjoyed, both were surprised.

Randall noticed Sully at the corner of his eye. With a "gun shaped" point of a finger, Randall remarked. "Anytime now" he said. Sully just rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a smile. It wasn't boasting or a put down. It was simply that no one had ever been able to break Fang's record, and its always hope that somebody would break it, and Randall was the closest.

Lunch was a normal occasion for Randall now. The first couple of weeks of his job, he worked over his lunch time to get some extra canisters in. Now, since he was ahead by allot, he could finally join everyone else, which he didn't like, but it was where a few of his fans were. The first time he cam in the room everyone went quiet. But now a days, nobody minded. He simply took a seat beside Fungus an a few workers on the same floor, like Ranft and Ricky. Randall always thought they sat with him so they'd find out what made him so good, though Randall would only say it was his skill.

The second shift ended earlier than it had started, everyone from Floor F starting out. Fungus started ordering and arranging the papers for Roz. Randall was looking over a few of the kids he'd scared while grabbing a sheet of his own off the station. Feeling finished now, he told Fungus he would catch up later. Use to this, Fungus left. Randall grinned as he looked over the sheet of paper in front of him. It was a tally of the numbers he did today. He always recorded from time to time, to see how he was doing. Every day he was getting better and better. He was getting use to it. He liked being a scarer. It was a fulfilling job.

Randall turned back, placing all his hands on the table's rim, looking at the empty door station ahead. He smirked to himself. He'd gone so far now. All it took was a little work, careful spending and saving. He was glad he was able to keep the same apartment, getting a house would decimate his pay. Not to mention he'd had a knack for not buying that much food. He did get enough for a good and overly great meal. Still, he got by pretty well.

He looked back at the sheet, looking it over again.

It would probably take a few more months to break the record, but Randall was willing to wait. A promise took time, so he could. Still, there was also that thought of where most of his money was heading for. Randall smiled. Hiring someone to find "them" was going to cost allot, especially for someone like him. Finding the right person to do so is a tough decision. Randall could do it himself, but he had to remain here for another promise.

A few rolls of a cart broke his thought as he looked back at the floor's entrance, sure enough, Sully was coming by with his bucket and mop, heading to the company's entrance then to the supply room, which Randall knew Sully was going. He grabbed the few things he brought, his pail and a case with a few items he specifically made and had, especially putting on his coat. Sully stopped upon seeing Randall on the floor, coming towards him now.

"Working late?" Sully asked. It was just a question, he was use to seeing Randall work a few doors for some more canisters, just to impress Waternoose, or to simply light a few more homes. Randall stopped at the end of the dispatch office. "No….not today…." He said, seeming tired. He had worked the night before, so he hadn't gotten much rest in. He started passing by, but Sully was also heading the same way. He continued beside Randall, who really didn't much enjoy the company.

It had been nearly a year since Sully took the job, and another year would soon come. There were certainly be SOMEONE who would retire, so he just had to ask. "Uh...Randall...". Randall scuffed. "Getting use to my normal name huh?" he whispered. Sully didn't want to get in a an argument with him, so he just continued.

"Since...your in good terms with Mr. Waternoose, I was wondering if...you could ask him if...if any positions on the floor are open next year". Sully knew that there was a 99.9 chance Randall wouldn't do it for him. Randall stopped. Then again there was always that percent left over. Randall placed his unused hands on his hips eyeing Sully like a hawk.

"I knew it...you want be a scarer" he said. Sully never actually came out and say it, but he was right. "Y...yeah". Randall grinned, dropping his hands. "I knew it...I knew it...all those trips to the floor...always spending time by the awards and taking peeks at the employee hand book..." Randall brought up. "How did you know that!" Sully asked, surprised. As soon as he asked, he found himself talking to a floating pail and case. "Oh...right" he responded, seeing Randall's point. Sully had gotten use to Randall's...uniqueness. He uses it from time to time, but mostly in the doors. Still, Sully has seen nobody else with abilities like his.

Randall unblended, lower arms folded. "If you wanting me to see if you can get a job here as a scarer...your wrong...". He started off again. Sully knew he would be that way, but he followed. "But why not?" Sully asked, it was an honest question. Randall sighed, still walking. "Because..." he started, holding a hand to his head as if talking to a child, which Randall thought he wasn't really far from.

"It doesn't just take determination and confidence...it takes skill and the skill of honing your abilities...". They started into the lobby, no one around. "I can do that..." Sully replied. Randall chuckled. "Please..." he scuffed. He knew Sully had somewhere else to go, but he was going home...

"B-ut". Randall held a hand on the door handle, turning back. "IF YOU WOULD STOP ANNOYING ME! I'LL CONSIDER IT!". Randall had had enough today, and he just wanted to leave. When he finally stepped into the cold air, the cold swell of the wind beat down on his scales. Morning was dying now, so he urgently started home, knowing it would only get worse for him come sun down.

"...I'LL CONSIDER IT!".

Sully watched as Randall stormed out. It was practically making him mad that he was bugging him. Sully had always thought Randall was the quiet sort, as he use to be, but nowadays he was more out spoken, snapping when the need arose. Still, Sully didn't blame him, he WAS being a slight pest. He would consider it? Sully's hopes fell when he heard that. But then again, it was judge-mental now. Its hard to tell if Randall was going to or not.

He started for the supply room, thinking on it. Randall had a tendency, as Fungus would say, to forget things, which wasn't really his fault. He hardly lied. Then again, Randal never liked anyone pestering him. So he might do it just to shut the person up. Sully kept wondering if he should have asked someone else. Then again, Randall was the closest to Mr. Waternoose that he was going to get.

He came to the room, opening the two bronze painted doors. The supply room was near the locker rooms, and it stored the various cleaning devices and quick back ups, like a few aid kits and a few door parts for a quick fix. It was actually a place Sully liked. Since he was near the locker rooms, he could listen in on a few conversations. He'd heard Randall every now and then, but he didn't really much know what he says. He also had gotten a few peeks at George's Employee Handbook. Strangely enough, the same one Randall seemed to have caught him peeking at. Peculiar that the place was becoming a second home to him.

He stepped in, getting everything to the side and heading out. He started back to the lobby. The lobby itself was nearly empty. Francis, the current receptionist, was already out. He wasn't really a good one at that, always leaving earlier than he should. He heard, from the locker rooms, that Waternoose wanted to appoint a new receptionist, but so far hasn't found anyone qualified.

Sully didn't really trust Randall, but then again he could. Randall didn't like lying unless he had to, and he seems to keep his word. Although, it was also questionable, since he seems to still hold a grudge against him. Sully did want to make peace, but getting on the floor was a top priority for him.

Well, whatever the decision, he had to wait till morning not to mention he'll have to meet up with Mike.

Seems like tension is rising. Ohh…the suspense…or…something like it heh.


	4. The Last Boggs?

Alright. Finally got some work done for Ran so here we go. This is a very highly emotional chapter. It does revel the terrible event that happens at Hockey Day's end, but then again I don't control Randall's life so it has to be told. Mainly, this reflects the hiding hurt that Randall has carried since…..

Chapter 4 The Last Boggs?

Randall ran up the stairs to his apartment, well at least his apartment now. He stood in front of the door, fumbling with his key for a minute before unlocking it. The room was dark, the lights off now. Since of how well he can see in the dark, he effortlessly tossed the case over and into the chair ahead of him on his left. Placing his pail down, he started getting off his coat. Slipping his left hands out, then his right, he hung it on the hanger on his right, letting his tail flick the light switch on the opposite side. The room was illuminated by a 40 watt light bulb, making all the images a little sharper, but uncomfortable to Randall, who really didn't mind it at all. He came over to the couch in the middle of the room, just falling onto it, grappling the headrest. Sleep was a tempting option for him, but he still had to eat and, having the need to, watch something. Staying there for a moment, he finally turned on his back, lifting the top part of his body with his four hands.

There were pictures starring straight at him on the dresser tops and tables. They were a few years old now. Randall turned away several times, only to be starring at more. Randall was prone to this for so long, and it still affected him. He slowly lowered himself back onto the couch, grabbing the throw pillow, drawing his limbs closer to his body. Randall was glad nobody would visit him. If he'd actually left the door unlocked he would never live it down if someone had seen him. His emerald eyes shifted left and right at the various pictures around him. Pictures of himself and.……

Randall looked away, as if every feeling in him was sucked out, leaving an empty vessel. He never told anyone what happened when he was alone, nobody around, nobody to hear him. He didn't want anybody to know. He looked back at himself, hearing something, just in time to see his tail turn back from being invisible to its normal shade of purple. That feeling again. He wanted to disappear. But he didn't know how to actually feel about it.

Sitting up, he thought again. Why shouldn't he be happy? Then again why should he? Which one was it? He was Top Scarer, earning a great salary, living the good life for once, having fans and admirers, having people who actually knew who he was. But then again. He had nobody to share it with. Fungus? Randall wasn't sure if he counted, but he just dismissed him nonetheless.

What's fame and success if you have nobody to share it with? Or rather, what's it like when you lose that person?

Randall picked up a photo on the table in front of him, grasping it gently with his top hands. "(Why?)" he thought. Why did it haunt him? Why did he have to disappear? Why did he have to be alone all the time? A tear started in his left eye as his right hand went over the picture. It was taken in front of the company he was working at now. He remembered it all too well. The photo was taken by David Strife when Randall was around 19 years old. Right before they went into training. Himself, Jack, and...his brother.

Randall sniffled, seeing him stand beside his brother, both with smiles on their faces. Randolph was having his left arms around him, Randall giving bunny ears behind his brother. Randall grasped it more firmly. "(Why was he taken away too? I don't even know what my parents look like and now I'm not allowed to see my brother!)" he yelled in thought. Randall had received deep sorrow from having his brother disappear, but was also angered that he was taken away from him.

"(I should have learned better!) Randall thought. A few seconds passed and he couldn't take it. "AARRGHH!".

(Froom!)

He pulled back and threw the frame at the wall.

(Tsssh!)

It hit violently against the wall, crashing to the floor in pieces of glass, the picture loose from the frame. Randall took a moment before realizing what he had just done. In deep regret, like a kid breaking a priceless vase, ran over to the shattered object. He took it in his top hands, trying to fix the frame. He managed to get the picture in right, but the frame wasn't going to work. Even when he held it, Randall felt regret. "I'm sorry...sorry..." he repeated. In some ideal thought, he went to touch the photo with his left middle finger, no other thought in his mind.

(Snip)

"Ah...". He pulled his hand away, having nipped his finger on one of the glass pieces of the cover. He watched at the ecto dripping outward, but not more. He didn't really seem to care. Feeling that the front wasn't worth fixing, he took out the photo and just starred at it again.

Randall was competing for someone to blame. Was it fate? Was it someone else? Or was it...him? Randall didn't want to believe it, but could...could it be true? No. Randall didn't believe it. Randolph loved him, he said it so himself on many occasions...but...

Randall just didn't like the idea, the thought. But it still broke his heart, or at least left a deep scar, when his brother suddenly disappeared. Everyone started forgetting him, like a movie store who had hit rock bottom and was just like everyone else. Those who still knew was Randall. Waternoose may still know. Jack should, but he was transferred. Strife probably does, but he was away.

Randall never forgot. He'd always go to work, acting as if his life was perfect. But when he came home, being behind closed doors in a place that was his...things just hurt him. He and his brother paid for the apartment. At first, it was tough for Randall to keep it, but he rose in the ranks and it soon became easier. The place was like a memorial to him, he didn't want to let it go. Letting go was something that was hard for him.

Randall had to spend carefully. Enough to live, pay the rent, and the other pile was for something else. Randall had been putting a few of his pay aside for a reason. Regardless, finding three monsters, all reptilian for that matter, would cost allot for him. It was unfair, but Randall was willing to do it, even if it killed him.

Still, there was always that anger lingering in him, toward anyone. He remembered recently, he had gotten a message from the Monstropolis Obituary Department that informed him that his brother was legally dead. Randall tore it up. It was a pure lie, a pure lie and joke. Randall never wanted to believe it. He had many thoughts, many feelings from it, never knowing how to classify them.

Randall lost his appetite, but knew it would come back to him. He could always order something. He kept the photo, heading into his room. It was still the same. Although he was older, he stile wanted to keep the place like it was.

He planted himself on his bed, the covers crashing into his stomach. He was facing the wall, his T.V. behind him. With a sigh, he lifted his tail and tapped the "on" button for it. It fizzed at first, then showed a color commercial he didn't care about. Just more pitiful monsters trying to sell their stuff to someone else who was also pitiful enough to buy it.

Things were quiet now. Not in the sense of sound, but in the sense of soul. The place use to hold two family members. There use to be laughing, there use to be comfort, there use to be fun, there use to be someone near him, someone to give hope. Now there was only him. Alone. No laughing, no comfort, no life, not anything...it just wasn't the same.

Randall didn't want to be annoyed by the flashing lights reflecting off the wall in front of him. He tapped the button with his tail again, turning it off and halting the sound. Now silence.

He flipped onto his back, holding the picture up enough so his eyes could see it. "(Why?)" he asked again. They were both so happy. Everything was going to be ok, everything was going to work out. Then...then it all had to come crashing down like a meteor of despair and sorrow. His brother was the only one who could hold him back from doing something terrible. Randall remembered a few days after the disappearance, he had passed by a few shops. One was a gun shop. He could probably buy one to shoot out the memories in his head. Another was a knife shop. He could probably just stab himself. There was a supply store that had some rope. Perhaps, he thought, he could hang himself again, just to get away. Finish what he tried to do so long ago. But no. It was different this time. He had to be confident that his brother was somewhere. And someway, Randall was going to get him back. His parents, he would find them too.

Still...

Randall turned onto his right side, still looking at the picture. The thought of his brother with him one minute, then gone the next was a strong impact. It was with every passing day, it would get worse for him. The memories they could have shared together, all gone.

Randal started whimpering now. He never let anyone know what he did, always trying to hide it. He didn't want anyone knowing how emotionally fragile he was.

He dug his head into his pillow, placing the photo close to him, still whimpering. "Ahh...Rand...Randolph...ahh...".

He continued and cried till he fell asleep, the demons beginning their attack on him.

Makes you wonder how he really felt….Anyway. Please review.


End file.
